


anything for you

by kinneyb



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22696645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Geralt had Jaskier up against the door, face buried in the crook of the bard’s neck, “You stupid fucking idiot,” he said, as romantic as ever. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”Ah, right, he was still worked up about Jaskier not listening earlier and rushing into battle when Geralt’s most recent hunt had gotten the upper hand, pinning him to the ground. Jaskier had frankly saved Geralt’s life, but that part seemed unimportant to the Witcher–he was more concerned about:“You could’ve been killed,” he growled, breath tickling Jaskier’s neck as he nuzzled at the skin. “Do you have any self-preservation?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 692





	anything for you

**Author's Note:**

> this was requested on tumblr and well... i couldnt /not/ do it
> 
> twitter: queermight  
> tumblr: korrmin

Geralt had Jaskier up against the door, face buried in the crook of the bard’s neck, “You stupid fucking _idiot_ ,” he said, as romantic as ever. “You could’ve gotten _hurt_.”

Ah, right, he was still worked up about Jaskier not listening earlier and rushing into battle when Geralt’s most recent hunt had gotten the upper hand, pinning him to the ground. Jaskier had frankly saved Geralt’s life, but that part seemed unimportant to the Witcher–he was more concerned about:

“You could’ve been killed,” he growled, breath tickling Jaskier’s neck as he nuzzled at the skin. “Do you have _any_ self-preservation?”

Jaskier tilted his head back, fingers curling in Geralt’s hair. “Not for you, darling,” he answered truthfully. He would run into danger for Geralt every time.

“So - “ Geralt nipped at his skin, biting down hard “ - fucking - “ he pressed his tongue, flat, against the bite mark, soothing it “ - _stupid_.”

Jaskier moaned, eyelashes fluttering. “Wh - what can I say?” he breathed, “I’m gone for you, my dear.”

Geralt growled again and frankly the sound went straight to Jaskier’s dick.

“It’s not _funny_ ,” Geralt grumbled, traveling up and nipping at Jaskier’s earlobe, pulling it between his teeth, “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

One side of Jaskier’s mouth quirked up, amused. “I thought Witchers couldn’t–”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up,” he growled, reaching down and gripping Jaskier’s hips, hard. He bunched up his shirt and thumbed at the dip in his hips, one of his favorite places to touch, mouth at. “You know what I mean.”

Jaskier laughed airily and ran his hands down Geralt’s chest. He couldn’t feel much beyond his thick armor, though, which was simply not okay.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re all _worked up_ ,” he said, “worried about me.”

Geralt frowned but Jaskier knew they were still okay; he could tell by the way Geralt reached up and undid the straps of his armor, tossing the chest piece across the room without looking.

“You need to take care of yourself,” he said gruffly, tugging Jaskier’s shirt off.

Jaskier returned the favor and helped Geralt get his own shirt off. Only in their trousers, he tugged him closer, their bare chests rubbing together. “But then I’d miss _this_ ,” he teased lightly. “Gods, you’re sexy when you’re angry, Geralt.”

Geralt growled and reached down, cupping Jaskier through his trousers where he was half-hard. “You’re a fucking brat,” he said, eyes dark.

“I know,” he breathed, grinning devilishly. “But you like it.”

Geralt yanked Jaskier’s trousers down, ungraceful and uncaring. Jaskier shivered, biting his bottom lip, and kicked them off.

He watched, enthralled, as Geralt pushed his own trousers down. Geralt was really so big; the biggest Jaskier had ever had by far.

“Come on, _Witcher_ ,” Jaskier said, wrapping his arms around the man’s thick neck, a coy smirk on his face, “Teach me a _lesson_.”

Geralt slammed their lips together almost painfully hard, teeth clanking. Jaskier gasped, shuddering, and parted his lips, letting Geralt do what he wanted with him. Their tongues pressed together, a familiar dance, before Geralt pulled back, nipping his bottom lip.

“Um - “ Jaskier panted, eyes half-lidded, “We, um, need the - the oil.”

The oil that Geralt always carried with him in his bag that was pointedly across the room. Geralt buried his face in Jaskier’s neck, licking and sucking and biting. “We don’t need it,” he growled, low.

Jaskier laughed, on the edge of delirious, fully hard and aching between his legs now. “Um, _adore_ your enthusiasm but I think you’re getting a little ahead of–” he was cut off with a moan as Geralt pulled back and spit on his fingers. “Okay,” he breathed, “that’ll - that’s _okay_.”

Geralt slipped a hand down and rubbed his spit-slick fingers against Jaskier’s hole, applying a little pressure and slipping his first finger past the ring of muscles. Jaskier gasped, head falling forward to rest against Geralt’s shoulder.

“You’re such a brat, my little songbird,” Geralt whispered in his ear, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside him, stretching him out.

Jaskier clawed weakly at his back. “Maybe - “ he gasped “ - I do it for a reason.”

“What?” he asked, letting out a huff of air that’s almost a laugh. Geralt pulled his hand back and added more spit before returning his fingers to Jaskier’s hole, pushing three in, scissoring them. “You like when I’m angry?” he said, voice low and even. “You like when I _fuck you angry_?”

Jaskier mouthed at his shoulder, kind of sucking but too messy. “Less talking,” he moaned, pushing back on Geralt’s fingers, sinking them deeper. “More fucking.”

Geralt pulled his fingers out, and Jaskier mewled at the emptiness. “Come on, little one,” he said. “Legs around me,” he said and Jaskier obeyed quickly, wrapping his legs around Geralt’s waist.

They’d done this position a lot, considering Geralt’s strength was extraordinary and he always said holding Jaskier up was nothing.

Geralt pressed the tip of his cock against Jaskier’s hole, wet and stretched, burying his face in the bard’s hair. “Such a little brat,” he grumbled and Jaskier let out a sob.

“Geralt,” he pleaded. “ _Please_ , I can’t–”

He thrust in, and Jaskier’s sentence was cut off with another sob, his fingernails scratching at Geralt’s back.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck me like you _mean_ it, Geralt.”

Geralt growled and gripped him by his hips, hard, steadying him as he started moving. Usually he was slow, but tonight neither of them wanted _slow_. Geralt did a few experiment thrusts, just to be sure, before he started fucking Jaskier in earnest, kissing him and swallowing his moans.

Geralt pulled back, licking his lips, and nosed at Jaskier’s jaw. “Open your eyes.”

Jaskier sobbed but obeyed– _Gods_ , he always obeyed–staring at Geralt with dark, wet eyes. Geralt could’ve come from that sight alone, but he held back, not wanting the moment to end just yet.

“Say it,” he growled, and Jaskier shuddered.

He swallowed, thick, and batted his eyelashes, the little shite, “I’m - I’m a _brat_.”

Geralt groaned, like the air had been punched out of him, and buried his face back in Jaskier’s hair, always so unfairly soft and smelling like soak. He thrust his hips faster, impatient, “You’re such a little brat,” he agreed, “but your _my_ brat.” He moved down and nipped at his cheek, playful, “ _All_ mine.”

Jaskier laughed through his moans and sobs. “Please, Geralt, I need–”

He knew what he needed; he reached down between their sweat-slick bodies and wrapped his fingers around Jaskier’s cock, dripping with precome. He thumbed the tip, knowing how Jaskier liked it, and the bard gasped predictably, biting the inside of his cheek.

Geralt moved back up and licked behind Jaskier’s ear, whispering, “Come for me,” he paused, nipping at his earlobe, “Let me hear you sing, little songbird.”

Jaskier’s back arched away from the wall as he threw his head back with an audible _thud_ , spilling all over Geralt’s hand and their stomachs. He clenched around Geralt because he also knew what Geralt liked, what he needed to get off, and sure enough Geralt growled like an animal, filling him up.

It was only after four or five minutes had passed that either of them moved.

Geralt gently pulled out of Jaskier, kissing him through the discomfort, and then helped him get his feet back on the floor. Jaskier’s legs shook, feeling like jello, and Geralt had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Bed,” he croaked.

Geralt nodded and helped him to the bed. Jaskier plopped on it, uncaring of their current lack of cleanliness, and pulled Geralt down with him. Geralt went without a fight and grabbed a shirt out of his bag, cleaning them up somewhat. It was far from a bath but it’d do.

“That was…” Jaskier breathed, “fucking _amazing_.”

Geralt snorted, nosing at his hair. “Do you really do things just to piss me off?”

Jaskier rolled over, tucking his hands under his head. “No,” he answered truthfully, slotting one of his legs between Geralt’s, snuggling closer. “But maybe I should because _wow_.”

“Watch it,” was Geralt’s reply, playfully smacking his bottom.

Jaskier squirmed closer. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I’ll be a good boy.”


End file.
